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Nightcap
She tapped quietly upon his door. “Just a moment,” came the reply from within. Shortly after, Dorian slid the door open. He was clad only in shirtsleeves and trousers. She could see by the open book and the imprint on his sheets that the medic had been taking it easy before turning in. “Miss Marisol?” he asked. “How you feelin’?” Despite the intimacy they’d shared today, her answer was somewhat sheepish. “Chaffed,” she said. “Down there…you know.” He lifted his chin, lips parted in a nod of understanding. “Mah apologies,” he said quietly. “Ah shoulda thought of that. Come with me.” The journey from his room to the infirmary was blessedly short. She waited in the open doorway as the lights came up. Dorian rooted through his cabinets. “This,” he said of a fairly large squeeze tube, “is a topical ointment. It’ll offer some mild pain relief and protect yah tissues from friction. It’s colorless, and odorless. Use it anywhere yah feelin’ discomfort.” He then offered a few squares of cotton gauze, along with several cotton swabs. “Fah more personal areas. Want a moment?” “Yes,” she smiled. Knowing him all these years, the drinker, the card sharp, the gun hand, and in particular, the unrepentant whoremonger, all memories that inspired curiosity and some amusement at the oh-so-proper medic who’d treated her both today, and during their time afield. “I’d appreciate that.” “Meet me at tha widow’s,” Adler said before shutting the door. After a moment’s soothing respite, she pocketed the tube and made her way to Yeva/Kate’s room. “Come in,” Kate responded in her adopted accent. The sight that greeted her was, to say the least, unorthodox. Dorian had positioned chairs. Marisol watched as he dealt out cards, using the coffin as their tabletop. Kate had also pulled her chair close, and was now downing a shot of whiskey. “Oh, thank Buddha,” she breathed. “This is the worst. Marisol, how are you feeling?” The mechanic shrugged as she sat. “Rode hard and put up wet.” She pointed toward a shot glass. “Got another one of those?” “Of course.” Adler refilled all three glasses. “A toast,” he offered. “To our mechanic. You took one fah that team tahday.” “So I heard,” Kate lifted her glass in salute. Marisol downed the shot. “Not like that mohawked kid…Vas?” As all conversation stopped, she continued. “He just got fired.” “Fah what?” “Something Riley made up.” She gestured with the glass, which the medic promptly refilled. “I tried to intervene…” “And yah still wearin’ yah head,” Dorian observed. “She must have a soft spot fah yah.” “I could hear her,” Kate said. “Today, over the intercom. She has two settings…'ignore' and 'scream'.” Marisol nodded. “I think she’s on something. She was a hot mess when I saw her in the galley.” “Lieutenant’s got her ways,” Adler responded. “We all got quirks on this boat.” “You’re telling me.” The diminutive mechanic took a sip. This one, she’d savor. “So…Skyplex in two days. We got a plan?” “Depends,” Kate whispered. “Is there a saboteur on this boat?” Marisol could feel their eyes upon her. “No,” she shook her head. “More like a prankster.” “A prankster,” Dorian repeated. “We were one spark away from today’s prank killin’ you and tha rest of us floatin’ home in tha shuttles.” He sat back on his chair. “Yah know who it is. Now Ah think Ah do as well. Tell Riley.” “She can’t handle shit right now,” she huffed. “I got this.” Kate leaned forward, piercing blue eyes locked. “We can’t afford these distractions,” she whispered. “Marisol, you must be focused.” “I know what I’m doing.” Adler smirked. “Yah always have, Ah’ll warrant. Ah’ll back yah play. Just settle it before Skyplex.” “That’s the plan.” ………………………… The whiskey had done its’ job of winding her down sufficiently. Marisol descended the ladder into her room. She stifled a yawn as the robe slipped off her shoulders. For a moment, she paused before the mirror. The mild brownish hue of her skin had taken a red cast. Whether this was the result of the radiation exposure or Dorian’s scrubbing, she couldn’t attest. Marisol slipped into panties and chose a tee shirt. Now comfortably attired, she cut the lights. Total darkness in a windowless cabin was a blessing, she thought as she settled into her bed… …To find herself promptly tossed to the floor. She fought the urge to turn the lights back on. The damage was obvious, as was the outcome. She now lay atop her mattress, eyes directed upward in the enveloping darkness. “Well, isn’t that just right?” Marisol asked, before sleep took her.